


The (Literally) Lost Art Of Writing

by fruityfruityfruitloops



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 07:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10183793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruityfruityfruitloops/pseuds/fruityfruityfruitloops
Summary: Stiles has just finished a new NSFW story and printed it out (because he's weird like that). Then, he realizes that he's sent the story to someone else's printer, and must race to retrieve it before someone reads it.





	

            There was nothing quite as satisfying as typing the final period of a story. It was like crack, or really good sex. Not that Stiles had ever actually had either of those, but it was the same sentiment. It was that sigh of relief, that sweet release, the “ahhh” after your first sip of a fresh, cold Coke. Clearly, he had been writing for too long. He was beginning to think in metaphors. The sooner this story was printed and the first draft was officially finished, the sooner he could get it off his mind for a little while.

            He saved the document (3 or 4 times, just to be safe), and hit “print”, staring at his printer expectantly. Nothing happened. He stared a little longer, occasionally glancing down at his laptop, but still nothing happened. He growled as he pulled up the printer receipts, glaring at the most recent print job. Stiles stared at the document, confused. It had definitely printed, or so the computer thought. So where was it?

            Then Stiles caught sight of the name of the printer that had received his document. He blanched as he realized that this was definitely not his printer. Had this been an academic paper, this would have been fine. However, this was one of Stiles’ stories, and not a delicate one. One of his creative outlets (his only one, actually) was erotic fiction, fan or otherwise. He liked the creativity, he liked the anonymous attention he got, but mostly it satisfied his desire to make hot guys do naughty things with/to one another. And this one was particularly dirty. Like, dishonor-on-your-family levels of dirty.

            Now, most people would ask “Why did you print your erotic story? That’s weird. Who were you going to give it to you sicko pervert?” Now, these people were entirely in Stiles’ head, but that was beside the point. Stiles’ reply was that he was old-fashioned when it came to his writing. He like to bust out his red pen and edit the way whichever deity was ruling intended. It helped to see everything laid out in a physical manner for some reason. Stiles’ theory was that seeing it in a different format that digital helped him to see it more objectively. Either way, his story was out there, and he needed to get it back before someone read it.

            He dropped his laptop and dashed out the door. The strange printer didn’t have a name, so he couldn’t guess who’s it was based on that. Then again, that didn’t matter much since he actually didn’t know who any of his neighbors were. He was kinking himself now for not going to the Welcome Party during the week before classes.

            It should be mentioned here that Stiles was a college freshman, living on campus in single person dorms. It was about a month into classes, so by now he knew all of his professor’s names, but virtually no one else. He also wasn’t super sure how the school’s rules treated situations like this, but he could imagine that sending smut to a non-smut-consenting student would be at least frowned upon. With this in mind, he knocked rapidly on the door immediately across the hall from his.

            A pretty girl with long, dark brown hair answered the door. …”Hi?” she half-said/half-asked, looking confusedly at Stiles, who was bouncing nervously.

            “Hi, I’m sorry to bug you, but did I send something to your printer on accident?” he asked very quickly.

            “No, I actually don’t have-“

She hadn’t even finished her sentence before Stiles had stumbled through a hasty apology and dashed to the next door. He heard the girl ask a quiet “What?” as she closed the door behind him.

Perhaps he rapped on the next door a touch too loudly, because a slender boy with a strong jaw swung open the door with an blunt, irritated “What?!”

“Sorry, but did I send my document to your printer on accident?” he asked, hoping desperately that it didn’t go to this of all boys.

The boy’s eyes narrowed into a severe glare. “No,” he said curtly, slamming the door shut. Through the door, Stiles thought he heard the boy say “Funky idiot,” but he figured that it probably wasn’t the word “funky”.

Stiles was miffed for a second, but quickly pushed it to the back of his mind as he wheeled around on the spot and knocked on the door across the hall. The door was opened by a girl with bright red hair whom Stiles instantly recognized as Lydia Martin. Both of them were English majors and had a couple of classes together and had become instant rivals. They were both smart and hated to come in second, which was a recipe for competition.

“Stiles,” she said, her eyes narrowing. It wasn’t a glare so much as an acknowledgement of an unwelcome visitor, which still wasn’t much better.

“Lydia,” Stiles replied, mustering all his strength to come off as cool as she was. “I don’t suppose a paper came to your printer a couple of minutes ago, did it?”

Lydia scoffed. “You can’t even print right, can you? It’ll be a wonder if you manage to make it to the end of the semester,” she said chuckling derisively.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take that as a no,” he said, turning to walk back down the hall.

“Try not to get lost on your way back!” she called as he walked away. He heard her cackle as she closed the door. He could already tell that she would never let this go. Thank goodness she hadn’t been there the first day when it took him a full 45 minutes to find his room.

He briefly considered giving up. He really didn’t want to wander around the entire floor searching for this story. For one thing, his name wasn’t on it, so it couldn’t really be traced back to him. It also could have gone to a different floor, and Stiles didn’t want the entire building to know him as “the guy who lost his smut”. It wasn’t a cute name. But, he sighed as he passed his own door, he might as well meet his neighbors while he had a plausible excuse.

He decided to go diagonally, leaving his next door neighbor for last. He knocked on the door, wondering if this was even a good idea. He received an emphatic “YES” as his answer when this gorgeous, sculpted boy who looked to be of Pacific Islander descent opened the door. “Can I help you?” he asked, looking at Stiles with beautiful brown eye.

Stiles didn’t answer at first, distracted because the boy had his shirt off and his body was freaking insane. Stiles quickly regained his wits enough to ask “Did I accidentally print something to your dorm?” He did his best to avoid staring at the boy’s body, but he couldn’t help but steal a glance every few seconds. He was only human, after all.

Thankfully, Danny didn’t seem to notice. He glanced back towards his printer, giving Stiles another opportunity to admire Danny’s magnificent body. Danny turned back and said “No, I don’t see anything. If you don’t mind me asking, what was it-?”

Stiles was saved from having to either explain the nature of his story or lie (which he was terrible at) when another male voice from further inside called “Danny, are you coming back?” Whoever the voice belonged to asked it in a teasing, sing-song voice. Danny blushed furiously, stammered a quick goodbye, and closed the door. Stiles stifled a giggle. They were barely a month into the semester, and already this boy was getting busy. And good for him, too. This was a floor full of horny humanities majors, and he was clearly the cream of the crop, so why shouldn’t he get some?

Stiles was wondering whether he could manage a hook-up with Danny and whether or not Danny thought he was cute as he knocked on the final door, his other next door neighbor. His thoughts, however, were quickly swept away by the boy who answered the door. Whereas Danny was shirtless, this boy was only in his boxer briefs, and he clearly wasn’t shy about exposure. Not that he had any reason to be shy, because holy wow, this boy was…everything. Danny was gorgeous, but this boy was beautiful and cute and devastating and handsome, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

But those feelings quickly disappeared when Stiles saw that he was reading a collection of papers. He heard a printer whirring with the pleasure of a job well done in the background. Stiles’ heart sank so deeply and so rapidly that it felt like it had shot out of his ass. Somehow, he just knew that this boy was reading his story. It was all over now. There was a brief feeling of giddy excitement as the boy looked up at him and grinned, but it was quickly quashed as Stiles pointed at the papers and began to speak.

“I don’t suppose that that’s my story that I accidentally sent to some random printer, is it?” he asked, his mouth drying up.

The boy shrugged. “I dunno. It’s kind of porny. Did you print some porn?” Stiles nodded mutely. Scott looked back at it for a couple of seconds before handing it over to Stiles. “It’s hot,” he said non-chalantly. “Did you write it?” Stiles accepted the paper with another silent nod, although this one carried confusion rather than dread. Had this hottie really just complimented his smut? “It was really good,” the boy continued. “If you ever want a test audience for your porn, just send it to my printer,” he said, grinning again. “I’m Scott, by the way.”

Stiles just stared for a while before finally jolting into action. “Uh, Stiles,” he finally said, “I’m Stiles.”

“See you around, Stiles,” Scott said, with maybe a hint of flirtation as he slowly closed the door. Stiles stood staring at the door for a moment before slowly walking back to his room. As he shut the door behind him, Stiles only felt more confused. Of all the reactions that he had been prepared for, some random stud flirting with him was somehow the most shocking. And what a stud he was. Nice pecs, perky nipples, defined abs, and it looked like he was hung by horse. He was so hot that Stiles was almost tempted to write a story about him (one that would DEFINITELY not be printed). Something kinky. Stiles could easily see Scott being kinky. Handcuffs, a blindfold, maybe some hot wax…

His thoughts were interrupted by his printer whirring to life in the corner. He rolled his eyes, tossing the newly retrieved story on his bed. Finally, the stupid thing was coming out of _his_ printer. Then he froze. He had never tried to re-print. He had only submitted one copy, and that one had gone to Scott’s printer. So what was coming out now?

As soon as the machine had finished, Stiles snatched the paper up. He read it quickly, smiling giddy as he did.

**“You wanna go out sometime? You can bring some of your stories if you want. Even if they’re dirty. Actually, _especially_ if they’re dirty. Send me a print-out with your answer.**

**\- Scott”**

Stiles chuckled as he re-read the message. Apparently, Scott was not only hot, but charming as well. And now he was asking Stiles out. He giggled quietly as he re-read the message again. He picked up his laptop, opened up another document, and wrote “YES” on it in a large font, sending it off to Scott’s printer. College, it would seem, was going to be fun.


End file.
